


TERROR

by BARALAIKA



Category: Drag-On Dragoon | Drakengard
Genre: Anal Sex, Breeding, Deepthroating, Fear, Gore, M/M, Rape, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 14:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15144974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BARALAIKA/pseuds/BARALAIKA
Summary: Urick's body shapes itself around Caim after his death, warping his body forever. Even so many years later, it remembers. (Commission. Extreme guro.)





	TERROR

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zotos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zotos/gifts).



> Don't say I didn't warn you.

 

_Do you remember me?_  
  


 

The clap of flesh on flesh was the first thing that Urick grew aware of. It was faint-- a distant sound to start with, which thudded half-muted against his ears louder by the passing moment. A flat rhythm.  
  
Then came the motion.  
  
His body rocked back and forth in time with the claps and the scrape of stone against his firm form ground across his musculature. The stone was wet. Slimy. It pulled the skin of his face back and forth.  
  
It… _hurt_.  


_Of course you do.  
How could you forget?_

 

 

His face was open. Urick could feel his flesh rubbing together as his face ground across the floor and it stung. Badly. His head was throbbing. And his neck. But most of all, his chest. His stomach churned. His hips hurt. His thighs ached. His knees felt as if crushed. His muscles started to tighten, sensation coming back, and that was when it dawned on him.  
  
He was being fucked.  
  
The realisation came in dull as his guts tightened around an intrusion, thick and long, that pounded into him hard enough to make his limp body lurch. With it came the pain. With that came his voice.  
  
Urick gasped for breath, a disgusting death rattle as his body seemed to swell with life once more. Colour drained back into his pallid flesh and stained his tan across his body as his heart kicked back in and a deathly cold ran through his veins. He was… oh, _gods_.  
  
The man above him grabbed his thigh, pulled it up and used it to haul Urick over onto his back. His body was still unresponsive, heavy, and he flopped like… _a corpse_. It ran through his mind heavily, dread welling and running over from his mouth in an agonised groan of terror as the sight of his assailant brought everything crashing back into his brain in visceral, painful detail. He was carved from belly to brow, a deep wound pulled apart again by movement that made him whimper when he hit his back and came to a halt. _This_ was the man that did it.  
  
They were both smeared in Urick’s blood, but it was all the more vivid on the One-Eyed Man’s pallid skin-- it had dried partway and painted him a disgusting, browning red that caked in places and started to flake away in others as he refused to stop rutting a man who had been a corpse just moments previously. It made Urick’s stomach churn and he couldn’t hold it back. He heaved and choked on the bloody froth that came up and had no choice but to let it bubble from his mouth and run into his hair.

 

_General! H-Help me!_

__  
Nothing came out but a strangled gurgle that splattered blood-froth over his face. It tasted terrible, half blood, half bile, all fear. He couldn’t look away from Caim’s stony expression, as solid and unmoving as ever despite the ferocity with which he fucked his prey; the only evidence that gave away his wicked deed were beads of sweat that matted his fringe to his face and trickled down through the blood that splattered and smeared across his countenance. It took him a few moments to snap out of his fuck-reverie and one haunting eye transfixed itself onto Urick.  
  
The corners of his mouth twitched… and a sickening grin crept across his face.  
  
His cheeks seemed warped, his teeth too white, the cloudiness of his dead eye eerie and the intensity of his remaining one unsettling, piercing and _wrong_. Urick gurgled as his stomach heaved again and up came smooth, acidic bile that burned its way up his ragged throat and turned into a bray of horror. It was a disgusting, animalistic, raw noise devoid of any and all dignity and it poured from him like a torrent, a true cacophony of a dying animal and man being raped at the same time, but… Caim seemed to _like_ it. The more Urick screamed, the harder he pounded him, smashing his body into his cock and balls so hard that he was terrified that something would pop.  
  
Wide hands wrapped around Urick’s head and Caim lowered himself enough to look his victim straight in the eye. Agonisingly slowly, he started to _twist_. Urick’s neck joints popped and tendons started to groan as Caim’s breathing grew ragged, his inelegant strokes grew more haphazard as his fingers groped beneath tangled, blood-logged silver hair to find the line of his brain stem and slid downwards a few joints.  
  
With a hiss, Caim slammed himself into Urick one last time as he unloaded spurt after spurt of thick spunk into his cold body. Each shot was a sickly, slimy injection of heat into cold meat and all Urick could do was bellow like a stuck pig beneath Caim’s hot hands and squeeze his cock until the twisting turned his face right towards the flagstones, Caim pushed with all his weight…

 

And with something between a pop and a _crack_ , Urick’s neck snapped. His vacuous hooting ceased and he was left to asphyxiate in peace, while Caim milked the last of his cum out of him with slow thrusts that came out vulgar, squelching and slurping as his semen turned pink, mingled with blood.

 

 

When Urick’s eyes opened, he was face-down again. His ass was wet. Empty. Weight rested on his back and arms locked around his body, hands on the crown of his head and on his shoulder, bracing him into place. Hot, wet breath tickled his ear. He recognised the hard press of a cock in the cleft of his ass and already, he wanted to cry.  
  
“ _Mmm...nnngh…. mnggrrgh--_ ” Urick moaned, trying to form words before his brain allowed him to; all that came out was a garble around his leaden tongue, while great gobs of drool mingled with blood and ran from his lips. He felt so empty. The ring of his asshole was swollen and burning and an involuntary flex pushed air and spunk out of his wrecked hole with a disgusting felch that sent a slimy trail of run-off streaking down his blood-and-cum-smeared cheeks-- it dripped onto Caim’s solid prick and to the floor, oozing all the way.

 

Caim flattened his face against Urick’s head, mouth pressed right into his ear— his breath was scalding as Urick's body had cooled and stilled in death and it felt so foreign, so vile and intense that it made his stomach heave. There was nothing to come up. He'd run out of blood and bile to bring up and so all he had was a dry mouth.

 

He felt the telltale slide of lips against his face and realised that Caim was trying to speak.

 

It came out as a death rattle.

 

Panic hit Urick like a tonne of bricks and he tried to squirm, mind blank save for how Caim manipulated him… but it was no use. There was no strength in him and a foul scratching, coughing sound rose through Caim’s throat. He was trying to laugh. Each wheeze came out sepulchral and empty, devoid of humour or soul— there was only a beast within his chest, an abomination. His throat sounded ragged, roughened, as if he’d been screaming for years only to be left hoarse and yet, no sound caught on his voice box. Although his lips made shapes, all that came out were throttled, vulgar sounds as if the grave itself was beckoning and Urick had no choice but to shudder beneath him as Caim guided his imposing prick back into his bitch’s captive pussy.

 

This time, however, was even worse than before.

 

With Caim so close, he wheezed and groaned into Urick’s ear as he took his time. He sunk himself into Urick’s body so slowly that by the time he was balls-deep, regeneration had already begun and he tightened around Caim’s stationary, brutish prick. Needless to say, Urick was fucked. Over and over again. Caim stretched his asshole out and made him bleed until his regeneration kicked in; he healed around Caim, using his brutish cock as a guideline until his body accepted it as an undeniable fact, a new default. When Caim unsheathed himself to check, Urick was left with a permanent gape, rendering his tight top’s hole to a pathetic, baggy, whore’s cunt. He was a loose, wet bitch, shaped just for Caim.

 

The very thought of it was enough to make him feel sick to the pit of his stomach… and harder than anything. 

He did it so many times that Urick wasn’t sure what it meant to be tight, with time melting away into a soup of sensation forced upon him— regeneration felt like his prostate being ground, like his dick twitching and leaking. It was being slow-fucked and sawn open, tightening and being stretched, tightening, opened again… the cycle was enough to make Urick cum before he knew it… and yet, it felt like guilt the moment it started cooling on his belly and Caim ignored his howls as his hyper-sensitive cock scraped across the flagstones.

 

Over and over again.

 

* * *

 

The next time that they met, Urick’s soul shook. His bravado drained from him the moment that he was left alone with Caim and staring him down sapped him of any certainty that he knew how to handle himself when confronted with such a terrifying presence.

If he was good, he wouldn't die.

 

Right?

 

_He was back on the Seal’s stones, bleeding, screaming for Oror._

 

A wet spot blossomed on the groin of Urick’s light trousers. Caim’s eye flicked down to it, back up to the mask that Urick hid behind and then back down again; it grew in seconds as Urick swamped himself with hot, stinking piss that ran down his legs and plastered the cloth to his thick, muscular thighs. His dick twitched visibly, his cunt echoing as he dripped shamefully and felt his mouth water.

 

He wasn't a threat. He'd be good for Caim.

 

_What's… wrong with me?_

 

Beneath his helm, Urick burned. His broken thinking frustrated and aroused him and he sunk to his knees, pried his shirt open fully and showed his first murderer his handiwork. The thick, ugly scar was his permanent reminder of that day but he found himself catching a moan in his throat as he ran his fingers down the gouge that wound across his form and the heavy welts where flesh knitted back together poorly. His hands wrapped around his pecs, the great, thick slabs of muscle and fat that he prided himself on and now tried to tempt his assailant back in to him with… complete with a gaping void that his fingers wrapped into, unnatural and vile.

 

Pathetic. A cheap whore had more respect for themselves than Urick did.

 

The one-eyed man’s presence terrified him and made him hotter than anything else in his life. _Touch me. Mark me. Fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, I beg of you—_

 

Such vivid memories. They made him shake and shudder openly, his body juddering and creaking as Caim prowled forwards, eye sharp and teeth bared… and wasted no time in pushing Urick down into his own mess. 

 

* * *

 

His body was warped to fit Caim. Urick’s jaw hung open, frozen in a scream, and he shuddered as Caim’s cock slid into his waiting, needy cunt. His eyes rolled back. A sick grin crept across his face. _It's good…_ Too good. He felt whole. Beneath a monster, with his legs wide and dick hard, Urick found something he'd never had before. Amongst the terror and twisted pleasure, his mind was numb—Caim robbed him of thought and left him a dumb, wet slut as if some primordial switch had been flipped… or the fear did strange things to him. Why had he resisted so long?

 

It felt so much better when he didn’t fight. The fat heft of Caim’s ridiculous cock stretched him to perfect limits and sawed back and forth through his guts like no other man ever managed to— it was like a hand in a fitted glove, even if his hole itself didn’t seem to agree. He was bleeding, torn to accommodate, but it only served to make them slicker, wetter, _all the better_.  
  
Urick’s beautiful prick flopped around uselessly, slapping solid planes of muscle wherever it went. Each impact left a kiss of pre, wet and sluttish on his beautiful body, guilty reminders of his depravity as his head flopped forwards, his eyes rolled back in his head and his tongue lolled from his mouth. He was slamming himself back into Caim, moaning with such _need_ that Urick didn’t know who they were any more, only the depths of pleasure that chewed his mind into submissive, whorish paste. He didn’t need to think. He didn’t need to feel anything else. Sounds of battle were long dead behind the stomach-churning sound of their disgusting rutting, wet and slick from spunk and blood that came out pink and vile as it rolled down to Urick’s heavy balls.

 

Caim was just as desperate to breed the man beneath him; they fucked like pigs, disgusting and sloppy, with Urick braying enough for the both of them as Caim rattled in his ear.

 

This is what he had wanted all along.

 

He wanted them to see him like this, what he truly was. 

 

“I want… your…” came Urick’s broken groan, his fucked-out brain practically leaking from his ears. He was in his place here. Pinned beneath Caim’s powerful body, being fucked full of his seed like a good bitch. If only he could let it take root in him and grow. If only he could show Caim a rounded belly and sagging tits. He wanted to harbour a monster in his body. To let Caim’s subhuman spawn sap him from the inside and drain him of his strength and his beauty, to feed on his soul and leave him a husk. If it meant Caim would keep him. If it meant that Caim would fuck him, over and over and over again.

 

Caim loved how it felt when he just _kept going_ — the human body was not meant to sustain such horrendous, traumatic damage and tore like the useless meat he knew it was. Red, hot, gushing flesh beneath his hands, rendered apart by a heavy blade and greedy hands. Urick’s useless, leaking, stinking body-meat made him so hard and so hot that he couldn’t resist… and Caim opened his personal whore’s throat with the tip of his blade in smashing, mashing motions. Wet, sick chokes interrupted him as Urick spluttered and spat a mixture of blood and drool but alas, it did nothing to deter the monster that loomed above him. With one final half-stab, half-bludgeon of his blade, Caim managed to make a ragged hole in Urick’s thick, muscular, beautiful neck and opened up a bubbling, wheezing new cunt to breed.

 

Blood looked so good on his cock. Smeared with dark, vulgar red that dripped from his imposing shaft, Caim looked every part the terror that he had earned the title of. Beautiful and sickening— enough to make Urick’s ravaged asshole twitch and leak his potent, precious load. How was it that Caim’s cock seemed to stay so hard? With a few encouraging strokes, he was raging again, dripping and cruel as ever as he sat himself over Urick’s shoulders and lined the glossy, cummy tip of his cock with the bubbling, roiling mess of bloody throat-cunt.

 

Urick’s throat wrapped around Caim’s cock in the wrong direction so well, spreading obediently around its bulk until his balls squelched in the fresh, bloody slurry. His hips rolled back and forth at a leisurely place as he gripped Urick’s lower jaw and used it to manipulate how tight he was at the entrance, squeezing his tonsils and uvula with insistent pressure… until he jabbed his hips forward and punctured his way into Urick’s mouth.

 

The head of Caim’s cock rammed against the inside of his teeth, sliding up them until he aligned Urick’s juddering jaws just right and bucked forwards until he frotted against his nose. All the while, Urick was drowning in his own blood, gurgling and twitching as his cock raged. He came. Just as he faded away, he spunked himself in weak dribbles while Caim mashed his skull into the ground and tore himself a path through his throat and mouth. He gripped Urick’s ears and hair and punished him, cracked his head against the stone and kept going and going in his blood haze until he froze in place and unloaded, shuddering, down Urick’s face and into his glassy eyes.

 

For a moment, all Caim could feel was his heart in his ears and the heave of his chest.

 

Below him, his seed cooled on vacant eyeballs and dripped through thick, dark lashes.

 

Never had Urick been more beautiful, nor more disgusting. Without Caim’s cock propping him up, the weight of his head rolled him aside and he stared off into the distance through a veil of cum. It would have been a shame to waste him.

 

Caim was already halfway through his throat; he was able to rip Urick’s head from his shoulders with little effort, just some to and fro and brute strength. He kissed and sucked the spunk from his eyes and ran his tongue across them while he ploughed Urick’s oozing throat. By the time he was finished, his orgasm was near-dry, but Caim made it up to him well enough. He softened inside his cooling meat and relaxed enough to piss down his throat, forcing it down into Urick’s stomach. There was plenty for him and Caim exhaled through his nose as casually as if he were stopping at the roadside and listened to the battle rage on outside.

 

It was the strangest moment of calm in his life, but Caim was too far-gone to realise it.

 

He stood when he was done and dropped Urick’s head by his bloody, cum and piss-leaking neck stump without a mote of care or concern. Casually, Caim shook his softened cock off and let the assorted bodily fluids and chunks of viscera splatter across himself, rose his boot—

 

— and brought it straight down through Urick’s skull.

 

It burst like an overripe melon, smattering the mushy, useless slop of Urick’s brain across the floor as if he was nothing more than an insect; Caim wiped the mess off on the ground as if he was one. Pitiful. Weak. Nothing but carrion until his saving grace arrived.

 

Caim tucked his cock away, turned and kept walking as if nothing had ever happened.

 

To do so otherwise would have implied Urick even had worth in the first place.


End file.
